


Fraser's Game

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, S&M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-09-29
Updated: 1999-09-29
Packaged: 2018-11-10 12:31:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11127057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: It's all fun and games till....





	Fraser's Game

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Disclaimers: This story is slash, and therefor involves two men doing things to each other that Jerry Falwell would never approve of. It's rated R for sex, and kinky sex at that, so don't complain to me if it's not what you should be reading - you were warned. I don't own these people, don't get any benefit from writing about them other than my own personal satisfaction. Please don't sue me.

Fandom: Due South

Pairing: Kowalski/Fraser

Spoilers: none

Summary: It's all fun and games till someone gets hurt.

Series: Maybe. Not sure yet.

Permission granted to archive at mailing list archives. Please ask permission before posting it anywhere else. Comments or complaints can be sent to 

Fraser's Game

Barbara J. Webb

I don't understand, can't understand, can't think - just do. It hurts...every time he swings his arm, every time the belt hits my skin, it hurts. I want it to hurt, don't want it to hurt, want him to stop, don't ever want him to stop.

Can't move. My arms and legs are tied, bound with a double-hitch over the rabbit something knot he showed me once. Whatever it is, I can't budge it the slightest bit. Good, maybe. If I could, I might run away, and I don't want to and I need to and can't - won't. 

Started so different - don't know how this happened. Just a joke, a game - don't know how we got here. Don't know if I want us to be here, but I can't stop it and maybe don't want to and it hurts - doesn't hurt \- good, not good. 

Fraser....

"That sucked." Ray carelessly tossed the book he'd been reading across the room, where it landed open, several pages folded over.

On the other end of the couch, Fraser looked up from the newspaper, tilted his head in inquiry, looking not unlike Dief as he did so. "Is there something the matter, Ray?"

"That book. Stephen King's supposed to be scary - you know, booga booga booga monsters and all. That one wasn't at all scary. I don't even get it."

The Mountie unfolded his legs from where they'd been tucked primly under him, went over to the wall and retrieved the book, carefully smoothing the pages. "Gerald's Game," he read off the spine. "I'm not familiar with this one. I can't really say that I'm all that familiar with Stephen King's work in general."

"Well, this was stupid. If I'm going to read his books, I expect monsters, not...whatever this was. The whole thing was just this woman \- I guess there was sorta a monster, but he wasn't even a real monster because he was a real guy, and he was only in a couple parts anyway. All the rest of it was just her trying to get unstuck and this dog ate her husband and she didn't have much water, and it was pretty boring."

"Water is very important to survival, Ray." Fraser's words were absently spoken as his eyes scanned the back cover. "I'm sorry to hear you weren't pleased." Folding himself back up on the couch, Fraser opened the cover and flipped through the first few pages. 

"Don't bother, Frase, you probably wouldn't like it. It's kinda weird, and not at all Mountie-like." 

Fraser's mouth quirked into a quick smile to match Ray's grin. "Unlike yourself, I don't require monsters to enjoy my reading material."

"I didn't say that, just that, you know, Stephen King - he's supposed to have them, cause that's what he does, and when I pay eight bucks for a book, I wanna get what I was expecting to get." Bouncing off the couch, Ray only barely avoided tripping over Diefenbaker on his way into the kitchen. 

The Mountie looked as though he were seriously starting to read when Ray came back with a beer for himself and a Brisk for Fraser. "So what exactly about this do you think I wouldn't like?"

"Uh, just stuff - you know, stuff. Not very Canadian. Bizarre sexual hijinks and stuff."

"I see." Fraser lay the book aside and returned to his paper. "At any rate, even if you were disappointed, that's no reason to mistreat the book."

"Whatever."

He doesn't know - can't possibly know how much I need this, need to see him helpless and quivering, straining against the bindings I have wrapped around his wrists and ankles. It is power, force, aggression \- the darkness that smolders within my soul that, as much as I try to force it back, only forces its way free of whatever chains I wrap around it. But him, I can control - this moment is mine, only what I want, only what I need. Powerless over myself, I take power over him, nudging, propelling, driving him over the edge. He is mine to do with as I please, and I take my pleasure in his pain, his need, his trembling. 

He is not the only one afraid.

The hour was late enough the station was beginning to clear out, to settle from the confusion and bustle of an average day at the 27th precinct. Absently flipping through a pile of half-started reports, Ray didn't notice Fraser until the Mountie sat down across from him. "Busy day?"

Ray dropped the stack, fairly certain he wasn't going to finish any of them any time soon. "Not really." Fraser was dressed in the bright red serge - apparently had just been released from the consulate. "You wanna grab dinner?"

"If you like."

They fell in step with each other as they snaked their way towards the outside. Fraser had that sharp, focused look that Ray had come to recognize as promising something fairly deep going on behind those baby blue eyes. And he wasn't saying anything - another sure sign something was going on. "Yo, Earth to Fraser - what's up?"

"It's nothing, Ray." With practiced ease, Fraser stepped around Ray to open the door for him. "I have your book to return to you."

"Which book is that?"

"Gerald's Game - the one you didn't much care for. I have it for you."

Ray stopped, his keys dangling from his fingers. "You read it?"

"Yes." 

Leaning his elbows on the top of the GTO, Ray rested his chin on his hands. "You really read it?"

"Yes, Ray. That surprises you?"

"I dunno. Guess so. It was kinda - you know - enrhgh." Ray shrugged, unlocked the car, slid into the driver's seat, then opened the door for Fraser. "I didn't figure it would be your thing."

Holding the door open for Dief, Fraser leaned down to look at Ray. "What in particular did you find to be, um, 'enrhgh'?"

"Hey, that's pretty good there, Frase. Enrhgh. Right." The doors were shut, and Ray started the car. 

"So?"

"So what?"

Fraser was looking straight ahead, sitting at perfect attention. Something definitely had him uncomfortable. "What did you find disturbing about the book?"

"You know, it was just kinda weird - tried to be scary without anything really scary happening. Well, I guess cause she was out by herself and all and could have died - and that kinky sex thing...I guess I thought you might not be okay with that."

"I see."

The ride was silent for several blocks as Ray processed the conversation. "So you were okay with it?"

"I found nothing overtly disturbing about the situation, outside of the disturbances Mr. King intended." Fraser cleared his throat and cracked his neck. "The setup wasn't all that...shocking."

"Fraser, she was handcuffed to the bed." 

"Yes, I know that Ray." 

"You know, for sex."

"Yes, Ray."

"I just think that's weird." 

"If you say so."

Quiet - too quiet in here. Can hear Fraser breathing, and me breathing and that's almost it. At least when the belt's going, that makes a noise. Now it's quiet and I don't know what he's gonna do next and I hate waiting. Can't turn my head enough to see him, see what he's doing. Can't hear him. Don't know what's going to happen next. 

His hand, touching me - never knew how warm it felt before, never felt it like this. Hurts, tingly, warm - can feel his callouses. Stroking me - my shoulder, running down my spine. Can't keep from whimpering, can't keep still. 

Keep coming back to this. Every time, tell myself this is the last. Hurts. But then he looks at me and I want more...more. Touching - he's still touching me. Need him to do more. More. He will - eventually \- hate waiting.

Want him - need him - need...don't know. Can't think. Can't move. Can't....

"Whatcha thinking?" 

Fraser's arm around Ray's shoulder tightened slightly as Ray nuzzled his neck. "I'm thinking that you are very lovely right now, stretched out like that, sweaty and spent."

Ray loved these moments, in the afterglow of sex, when he felt all toasty and sparkly, and even closer to Fraser than usual. It was at these times also that Fraser's inhibitions were at their lowest, when he was likely to say exactly what was on his mind without the filter of Mountie-speak. "Well, you just go right on ahead and keep thinkin that."

Fraser's fingers moved through his hair, sending little shivers down Ray's neck. Even worn out, Ray's body still responded like that to Fraser: muscles so overcome with languor they could barely move still twitched at Fraser's touch; nerves desensitized by pleasure awoke to the feel of Fraser's breath on his skin. 

"What are you thinking?" The hum of Fraser's voice vibrated the tiny hairs above Ray's ear. 

"Thinking 'bout how good you make me feel." Ray was in that pleasantly sleepy stage that he always got to after sex, not quite able to keep his eyes open, but still able to make fairly coherent conversation. Fraser - like Stella - usually wanted to talk after sex, so Ray found his sleepy place and usually managed to stay awake to listen. It helped, of course, that wonderful effect Fraser had on his body.

His brain, however, tended to slip into random access mode if Fraser wasn't actually saying anything, jumping from one obscure topic to the next as it drifted. "You really didn't think that was nutty?"

Fraser had learned his own lessons about these times after sex, the first of which being it was usually a pointless exercise to try and guess what was going through Ray's head - better to just ask. "To what are you referring?"

"That book - the whole handcuff thingie. I mean, what's up that?"

"You know, Ray, more people than you might think experiment with sexual variations like that."

Ray pulled his head back so he could look at Fraser's face. "You gonna tell me you read a book about *this* in your grandma's library?"

Fraser's eyes ducked Ray's gaze, finding a point on the ceiling and remaining fixed there. "I have read a book or two on the subject. It's a very fascinating branch of psychology." 

"Oh yeah, I bet. Cause nothing makes sex sound more normal or interesting than reading about it in psychology books." Ray settled in once more about Fraser. "I just think you've got a bunch of freaks up there in Canada."

"Yes, Ray." 

"I just don't get it. What makes a guy wanna do that - handcuff someone to the bed like that? What's that about?" 

The question had been rhetorical - a foolish attempt on Ray's part, knowing as he did Fraser's proclivities for answering those - but he wasn't at all expecting what came next. "Would you like me to show you?"

"What?"

Fraser spoke with careful precision, his thumb stroking the base of Ray's neck. "If you really want to know, this isn't a concept that can be easily explained. I could show you - let you see what it's like, feel what it's like."

Ray shrugged, his sex-drugged mind not entirely wrapped around what the Mountie was saying. "Sure, Frase. Sometime, we'll do that."

The game is almost complete, but I draw it out a little while longer, watching him lie there, bound and helpless. This is the part I like to draw out, make him wait. I know how much it gets to him, grates on him - this waiting - and so each time I push him just a little farther. Not nice, not polite, but this isn't about kindness or compassion, restraint or thoughtfulness. None of those have any place here and now. My needs, my desires - my game.

He's so beautiful, flushed and trembling. I can't help but tease him, lightly dragging my Sam Browne across his back, his legs, his buttocks \- all a brighter shade of red than the rest of his body from the treatment they have received. He moans as I do this, pleads for me to touch him, to take him. Soon, but not quite yet. My choice, my time. 

My Ray.


End file.
